


Treat

by MoraMew



Series: Kinktober 2017 [11]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, F/M, Gags, Hook-Up, Inappropriate Use Of A Tie, Kinktober 2017, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Massage, Multiple Orgasms, OR IS IT, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Spit fetish, The word "Daddy" is used like 3 times, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2017-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-16 10:01:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12340467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: The charming little smile on his face curls into something almost cheesy but somehow a little intimidating too, so familiar and recognizable and-Oh.“I was sure I saw you in my-”“Kuroo-san?!”“-dreams...last...night...”(Written for Kinktober 2017, Day 11: Gags)





	Treat

**Author's Note:**

> Oh boy. This is a tiny bit late and much, much longer than I meant it to be. It's very self-indulgent and I give no apologies for it. It's like 4:20 in the morning and I'm brain-dead.  
> I like the idea that Yachi gets the confidence she deserves when she gets older. This was originally going to be light femdom but it just...ran away from me. So very light d/s elements and a fumbling foray into bdsm
> 
> Written for Kinktober2017, Day 11. Prompt chosen: ~~Sadism/Masochism | Orgasm Denial~~ | Gags

She stumbles upon the picture on tumblr.

Because of course she would.

She had just been browsing innocently, really. Just bored scrolling while she waited for her dinner to be delivered, looking at this and that while sipping on a glass of wine. A drawing caught her eye and she clicked on the artist’s blog, ended up looking at another one’s when she saw a reblogged portrait that took her breath away. She fell into a little hole and, through a series of clicks and alcohol inspired wandering, ended up on a side of the site that she usually tries to keep herself away from.

She had been just scooting her cursor to close the tab when a photo caught her eye and made her pause. Yachi had hesitated and then clicked on the blog, scrolled down and then found herself tilting her head to the side, eyeing her monitor curiously.

That was a solid three minutes ago but Yachi is still staring at the screen, her cheeks flushed a bit and some strange curiosity winding its way through her.

It’s not even that shocking of a photo, really. Nothing that should mesmerize her the way it has. It’s just a close up shot of a mouth forced open, lips spread wide and shining from spit leaking out from behind the rubber of a navy blue ball gag. It’s nothing special, nothing intense.

But it _does_ capture her attention. It _does_ make her wonder.

Yachi blinks and touches at her lips thoughtfully, traces over them with light fingertips.

She’s never experimented with those sort of things before. She’s not as innocent as people like to believe but she is, truthfully, vanilla and plain in her intimate encounters. The kinkiest thing she’s ever done is let one of her old boyfriends in college eat her out in the city’s park. Everything else has been on the safer side, without risk and without flavor. She’s not unsatisified with her sex life, per say. But she is...curious. At least in this moment right now.

Yachi hums to herself and runs her gaze over the photo again, bites at her lip when she hears a knock at the door. Another glance at the spit and rubber, the leather straps digging into pale cheeks and then she exits out of the browser, closes her laptop.

* * *

The curiosity lingers within her even through the next day, the next night. Yachi eventually breaks down and gives in to her interest, cozies up in her bed with her laptop and does some research.

There are many more types of gags than she had expected. They’re mostly terrifying- the medical and spider gags leave her squirming in a _not_ so good way- but there are a few that she finds herself a little drawn to. The ring gag has some appeal as well as the knotted ones. She likes the aesthetic of the panel gag and even the look of the bit ones.

But she likes ball gags the best, she decides.

Yachi goes beyond a simple wikipedia search and dives in a little deeper, navigates through poorly constructed fantasies and digs for informative descriptions of what it’s like to wear one, what it’s like to put one on another person.

She finds herself reading accounts on both sides of the spectrum- dominant and submissive. Some of it seems abusive to her, some of it seems therapeutic. It’s all varied by experiences and tastes and Yachi becomes more intrigued, more curious. She thinks she wants to feel what it’s like to wear one herself but she isn’t quite sure, ends up wondering about it much longer than she thought she would.

She goes to bed that night and dreams that her mouth is stuffed with a silk scarf, that someone’s head is buried between her thighs. When she wakes up, she blushes furiously and works herself through an orgasm, goes to work and finds herself distracted throughout the day.

She hasn’t been so scatterbrained since college and finds herself embarrassed for her wandering mind.

Later that night she arms herself with a bottle of wine and drinks until she’s brave, trawls the internet to find something to watch that isn’t too overwhelming to see. She manages to find a site for an indie porn company that tailors their smut to those that are a bit curious but fluttery, shy and easily flustered. She picks out a clip that features a very attractive man with very attractive tattoos and a very attractive woman with very attractive curves, purchases it, and then spends ten minutes working up the nerve to actually watch it.

She ends up pausing it about halfway through when it becomes a bit too much for her to watch and ends up coming twice as she lets fantasies play out in her mind.

Yachi has never been quite good with watching porn. It’s just a bit too...visceral for her.

After she’s all soft and dazed and pleasantly tired, Yachi rolls over onto her stomach and drags her laptop back over, lets her post orgasm bliss and wine drenched impulses take control.

She finds a pretty ball gag made up from oxblood leather, black rubber, and golden metal bits. She buys it before her bravery gives out and then promptly falls asleep.

* * *

Yachi doesn’t remember it the next morning, the morning that follows after, or even the one after that. She gets a major project plopped into her lap after one of her co-workers gets in a car crash and all of her time is spent trying to finish up the project as well as her own. So she forgets about the ball gag and forgets about her curiosity, finds herself puzzled when she opens her mailbox to find a small package in it two weeks later.

Yachi drags herself up to her studio apartment, tired and frowning at the box in her hands. She unlocks her door and kicks off her heels, makes her way to her bed and peels off her blazer before tearing open the package.

Her eyes immediately widen and she lets out a quiet “oh” when she plucks the gag from the tissue paper, turns it over in her hands and blushes. There’s a little thrill that runs through her and then uncertainty, embarrassment and a stray thread of apprehension.

She doesn’t know what to _do_ with it. Now that she has this instrument of bondage, she doesn’t know why she bought it, how she expects to use it. It feels silly to try it on herself with no one around but she’s been without a partner for ages now and she’s not about to call up old flames just so she can give it a go.

Yachi takes a deep breath and gingerly lays the gag on the bed, looks at it almost wistfully before gathering up the torn package and carrying it into the kitchen area to toss away.

Well. Maybe she’ll have the opportunity to try it out sometime.

She pours herself a glass of wine after she dumps the package in the trash, forces herself to sit in her office area and work a bit more. Yachi manages to make it through about fifty minutes before her brain just decides to reject the notion of working after hours completely and she ends up whining to herself, burying her head in her arms.

She’s so tired and brain dead from working so much and she needs a _break_.

Yachi decides to allow herself one, pushes herself from the desk and stretches. It’s a Friday night. She’s been living off take-out and quick meals from the convenience store for two weeks now; she _deserves_ a decent dinner.

She takes a shower to refresh herself and then tosses on her favorite skirt and sweater, a pair of stockings, a garter belt and a cute bra and panty set just for her own self-confidence. The skirt and sweater are old and worn but they’re comfortable and she looks _cute_. They might be a bit too preppy and girlish for the sophistication she’s been trying to pull off since hitting her late twenties but she can’t find herself willing to care.

Yachi grabs her purse and slips on her oxfords, locks the apartment as she leaves and hurries down the stairs with a smile on her face.

She feels better already.

She decides on one of the smaller restaurants near her building, a fancy little place with food a little out of her budget for the week but definitely worth it. She gets seated in a nice little corner booth and sits down happily, smiles to herself as she looks over the menu.

A salad with watermelon, feta cheese, and arugula. Bouillabaisse with a Red Pepper Rouille. A glass of rosé. She orders a jumble of self-indulgence and feels a satisfaction that hasn’t ran through her in quite some time.

Yachi pulls out an old book she’s been working through- a copy of “Snow Country” that she’s been reading during her solo meals out in public. She flips it open to where she left off and begins to read with a smile on her face, thanks her waiter when he drops off her salad and wine.

It’s peaceful and perfect, just what she needs to unwind. She gets relaxed and mellow, so wonderfully at ease without work on her mind or her eyes staring at a screen. It’s a nice night and she’s pleased that she decided to come out.

The pleasure slips ever so slightly when she hears someone walk up to her booth, when a tan hand lands on her table just on the very edges of her line of sight.

“Hey, have I met you before?”

Yachi blinks and frowns down at her book, composes her face politely before looking up at the stranger that’s decided to chat her up. She blinks again when she catches sight of his face, blinks once more because _oh he looks_ _familiar_.

The charming little smile on his face curls into something almost cheesy but somehow a little intimidating too, so familiar and recognizable and-

 _Oh_.

“I was sure I saw you in my-”

“Kuroo-san?!”

“-dreams...last...night...”

They stare at each other and Yachi blushes from the embarrassment of blurting out his name and interrupting him, feels her eyes widen because she _never_ expected to see the former Nekoma captain again.

Kuroo blinks at her, surprise causing his smile to drop. It grows again, though, and turns into a little grin, his head cocking to the side and eyes running over her.

“Well, holy shit. How ya doin’ little crow?”

* * *

After the astonishment of ~~being hit on by~~ meeting Kuroo again eases, Yachi remembers her manners and smiles at him, tucks her hair behind her ear and asks if he would like a seat.

He accepts her offer and slides into the booth across from her, grins and lounges back, apologizes for throwing a cheesy line at her. She just smiles and picks up her dwindling glass of wine, takes a sip and looks at him through her lashes.

He looks almost the same, really. More chiseled perhaps. Maybe even a tiny bit taller. His hair is a little bit more tamed but still quite wild and he’s wearing this _beautifully_ tailored suit that makes him look as if he stepped off a magazine cover.

It’s a good look for him. She wonders if he’s fit underneath, if he still has those amazing biceps and lovely thighs that she remembers so, so well from training camp and Nationals.

The thought is pleasing and Yachi takes a breath, sets the wine down and smiles at him sweetly. She’s long past her crippling anxiety that plagued her in high school and even a little of college, knows well enough how to enjoy flirtation and time spent with a handsome man.

And Kuroo is _very_ handsome.

They talk and she finds out that he actually works in the city as a chemist for some bigshot development company. His work is not too far from her own and she’s surprised she hasn’t seen him around town before. He tells her that he’s just as surprised, eyes running over her face and neck, skimming over her exposed collarbone.

“I think I would remember seeing you around the city.”

That’s cheesy. He’s not quite as suave as she imagined him to be in high school but he’s not quite as sleazy as his little smiles and smirks would suggest either.

The more that she talks to him the more that Yachi finds out that Tetsurou Kuroo is, in all honesty, a dork.

A handsome (hot) dork, definitely. But a dork all the same. He’s got a long line of zingers- ones that he _knows_ are cheesy but manages to pull off with a certain charm- and a bounty of quips- witty and crass but still managing to make her smile. His laughter is braying and his accent is lazy but he’s funny and laid-back, charming but not overwhelming. She doesn’t mind that he doesn’t hide his obvious interest and she doesn’t mind when he asks if she wants to grab a drink somewhere else.

Yachi smiles and accepts, pays for her dinner and lets him lead her from the restaurant with a hand resting right between her shoulder blades.

He chooses a place she’s never been before, a little bar tucked away between a bookstore and a florist’s. She must have passed by it a thousand times; it’s quite literally across the street from her building. It’s a little different than she imagined it to be, more dark and smoky than refined and pretentious. She likes it, she thinks. Everything is drenched in amber hues and the murmurs of the other patrons is almost relaxing, in a way.

When Kuroo walks them in, the bartender shoots him a smile and Yachi raises her brow, looks up at Kuroo curiously.

“Come here often?” she asks. It sounds cheesy to her and she wrinkles her nose, smiles when he grins down at her. “Oh, that was as bad as your lines, wasn’t it, Kuroo-san?”

He laughs, loudly and obnoxiously, and moves his hand from the middle of her back down lower. She lets him with a smile, leans into his touch and tries to decides how she wants her night to end.

“Cute, Yacchan, cute,” he tells her, one last chuckle running through the words. He leads her to the bar and they sit tucked away in the corner of it, Yachi taking the stool by the wall. “Yeah, I come here every now and then. Bokuto lives nearby. You remember him?”

“Yes, of course,” Yachi says with a smile. “Hinata’s still crazy over him. He watches all of his games. Last year he took me to go see one of them, actually. It was...Japan versus Brazil, I think?”

Kuroo raises his brow and looks her over, runs his tongue over a canine and tilts his head.

“Chibi-chan, huh?” he asks, rubbing his hand over his jawline. There’s just a touch of stubble on it. It’s a good look. “You two still hang out then?”

“Sometimes,” Yachi tells him, trying not to stare _too_ obviously at him. Is he asking to gauge her availability or is it general curiosity? She turns and looks over at the bartender, gives him a smile. “We’re both pretty busy, though. We don’t get to see each other too often. He’s always doing something with Kageyama and work, generally, keeps me swamped.”

“Yeah?” he asks. “Graphic design that demanding?”

“More than you would expect,” Yachi says with a tired sigh. She perks up as the bartender walks over, smiles at him and smiles a bit more when she notices the approving look he sends Kuroo’s way. “What would you like, Kuroo-san?”

There’s a hum from him, Kuroo shifting so his knee brushes hers. She doesn’t move away but doesn’t move closer, lips curling up even more as she keeps her gaze forward.

“Oh, I think I’ll take a dirty blonde,” Kuroo says, a drawl in his voice.

Yachi glances over even though she tries not to, eyes him a little and takes in the way his lips are twitching ever so slightly, the way the corner of his eyes are crinkling up just a bit. He’s being very transparent with his desires and she’s glad. Guessing games are more nerve wracking for her rather than fun and she’d like to not fret over whether she’s going to make a fool of herself or not.

Yachi smiles and takes the bait, looks back to the bartender.

“Between the sheets,” she orders sweetly, pressing her knee against Kuroo. “Please.”

The bartender nods and turns away, walks off and leaves them be. Yachi turns to look at Kuroo with an innocent, wide eyed expression that she’s learned men seem to like on her and offers him a smile. He looks back at her with a sly, pleased smirk and tilts his head to the side, lets out a hum.

“You know,” Kuroo tells her, smirk morphing into a toothy grin, “I didn’t even know that was a real cocktail. I have no idea as to what I’m getting.”

Yachi lets out a surprised laugh and then giggles, hides her mouth behind her hand as little peals of laughter slip from her. He joins her with his own barked out laugh and Yachi feels herself relax more, slip from the lingering restraints of uncertainty.

“Well, Kuroo-san,” she says with a smile, free and a bit silly, “I do hope you like sweet drinks.”

“Oh, it’s sweet?” he asks, nose scrunching up a bit.

“Achingly so,” Yachi informs him with a soft laugh. She gathers up her boldness and smiles, blinks sweetly. “You should have ordered a French blonde instead if you were going for that angle; It’s a little less candied.”

“Oh? But then I wouldn’t have been able to flirt,” Kuroo teases, propping his elbow on the bar and his chin on his palm.

Yachi giggles and smiles at him, tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth and moves so her knees are between Kuroo’s legs, brushes one along his inner thigh.

She’s really glad she’s already had a glass of wine. She may not be as shy and nervous as she was in high school but she _is_ a bit rusty, maybe a little hesitant about her flirting techniques. A little alcohol makes it easier to be bold and brave, pull off a confidence that’s a bit more profound than her own.

“Are you so sure, Kuroo-san?” Yachi asks, voice light and bubbly with some stray amusement.

His brow arches and some curious light goes off in his eyes, something interested dancing across the curl of his lips.

“Really now?” he asks in return, leaning forward ever so slightly.

Yachi smiles and ducks her head almost a little sheepishly, looks up at him through her lashes and lets out an affirmative hum.

“Mes grands-parents sont français. Maman m'a appris à le parler,” she tells him, not quite able to keep the pleased expression off her face when his eyes widen ever so slightly. Yachi tilts her head and hums, adds on with a little sigh, “Bien que, je suis un peu rouillé.”

A low groan slips from Kuroo and he runs a hand through his hair, looks at her with an expression that _seems_ a little hungry. He leans forward a bit more and touches at her knee, trails his fingers just to where her skirt ends. Yachi allows it and smiles, hopes the expression is half as coy as she’s going for.

“Kitten,” Kuroo drawls, “you are a _treat_.”

Something pleasant tingles through her at the pet name, a little skittering of sparks down her spine that almost has her shivering. Yachi hums instead, looks up at him through her lashes and leans in ever so slightly.

“How kind of you to say,” Yachi murmurs to him, demure and sweet. She’s learned how to play up her strengths through the years; she’s not too shy to use what she has anymore. “Est-ce que ça veut dire que tu veux me goûter?”

Another groan and his fingers push up a bit higher, taps against her thigh underneath her skirt. They brush over the hem of her stockings and Kuroo’s lids lower, his eyes get a bit more hungry.

“Man, you are much different than I thought you would be,” he tells her, his grin seeping into the words. “Not as shy as you were back then, are you?”

Yachi huffs out a laugh and smiles up at him, leans in just a bit more.

“Kuroo-san,” she says softly, shifting her leg in a bold move that makes his fingers slip up higher, “with all due respect, I’m not the same as back then. And we had, what? All of two conversations when our paths crossed back then?”

He raises a brow and toys with the strap of her garter belt, gives it a little snap and then smiles.

“Still, kitten,” he nearly purrs, “you’ve grown into a pretty little delight. I remember you squeaking and hiding behind Sawamura the first time Bokuto tried to talk to you.”

Yachi’s cheeks flare with old embarrassment and he laughs, moves his hand from her knee and turns to accept his drink. Just like that the mood shifts to something a bit more cheeky and casual, less flirty but still holding that pleasant sense of laid-back desire.

Yachi smiles to herself and turns to the bartender as well, thanks him for the drink and sips on it.

She thinks she knows how she wants (hopes) her night will end.

* * *

They have their drinks and then another, talk and swap stories about people they once knew. Kuroo is more of a gossip than expected and that’s amusing but it’s more amusing to listen to him talk about his work, watch as his hands wave through the air and see his rambling turn passionate. She likes listening to him, Yachi thinks. He likes an audience (as most men do) but it’s not boring to hear him talk and she’s genuine with her curious questions about his work.

At one point he almost smacks someone in the face during his gesticulating and he actually blushes a tiny bit, grins in embarrassment and rubs the back of his neck.

“That might be my cue to shut up about myself,” Kuroo says with a laugh. “Kitten, tell me more about yourself.”

Kitten. He keeps calling her kitten and it keeps shooting a little thrill through her, keeps making her want to bite her lip and lower her lashes.

She _really_ hopes she hasn’t been misinterpreting his intentions. It’s been awhile since she’s been so interested in a potential lover for the night.

Yachi smiles at him and hums, runs the tip of her finger over the rim of her mostly empty martini glass.

“Well,” she starts with a pensive little hum, “I’m not sure what else there is to know. I told you that I’m a graphic designer. You’ve learned that I can speak French-”

“-much to my absolute delight.”

Yachi smiles at his grinning interruption and gives a soft laugh, nods.

“There’s not much to know,” she continues on. “I work a lot. When I have the opportunity to relax, I generally end up napping and burying my nose in a book. I have a peaceful, busy but boring life.”

“You don’t have any hobbies?” Kuroo asks, resting his chin on his palm. “No wild adventures with a boyfriend?”

Yachi almost huffs in amusement simply because the question has finally been asked after little touches and flirts, appraising grins and hungry eyes. It took him long enough and it’s not anywhere near casual but, hopefully, the revealing of her relationship status will push things further into her favor.

“No,” Yachi tells him with a smile. “There’s no one to have adventures with. No boyfriend, no girlfriend.”

Something nearly shocked seems to flit across his face but then the expression shifts into a sharp grin, a pleased smirk. He runs his tongue over his teeth and Yachi lowers her lashes, offers him an encouraging smile when his hand finds her knee.

“A shame,” he says.

“Hardly,” she murmurs, demure as she flirts, as she eggs him on.

He grins and she hides a shiver at how, in that moment, Kuroo looks almost predatory. The wolfish angle of his lips smooth into something a bit more friendly, a coaxing lure with the promise of pleasure without strings.

“I suppose it does work in my favor,” Kuroo tells her, voice holding the barest purr.

Yachi smiles and plucks up her glass, drains it of its contents and licks her lips, flicks her gaze up through her lashes.

“Perhaps, Kuroo-san. Perhaps.”

It’s just a bravado of a tease, really, brought on by alcohol bolstered confidence and a thrumming need that’s been building up for _ages_. She can’t remember the last time she had been with someone, the last time she had more than her fingers, glass toys and silicone lovers. She’s eager for him and, from the way his eyes are running over her, Kuroo’s eager for her as well.

They linger for ten, fifteen minutes longer, keep the flirting up until the bar gets a bit crowded and Yachi’s cheeks are flushed, until Kuroo’s hand is wandering up a bit too high for public. He asks her if she’s ready to get some fresh air, smiles when she nods, pays for their drinks and then sweeps her from the bar and out onto the sidewalk.

“So,” he says, taking a deep breath in pause, “is this where we part ways?”

Yachi takes her own breath and gathers up all of her confidence, tilts her head up to look at him through lowered lashes. He looks down at her, his hand going to rest on her waist as he waits for her answer.

“Kuroo-san,” she murmurs, leaning into his touch just a bit, “my building is just across the street. Would you...like to come up? Have one last drink with me?”

“Oh, kitten,” he tells her with a pleased grin, “I would _love_ that.”

Yachi smiles and bites her lip, turns to cross the street with something quite nearly smug running through her.

Yamaguchi is going to flip when she tells him about this.

It takes maybe five minutes to walk across the street, step into the elevator and ride it up to her floor. He tucks his hands into his suit pockets and doesn’t try to touch her on the way, keeps a grin on his face as she unlocks her apartment and walks in. Yachi doesn’t look back as she kicks off her shoes, heads to the kitchen area with an extra sway in her walk.

She hopes it’s not as ridiculous as it potentially feels.

“Mind if I take off my jacket?” Kuroo asks from behind her.

“Go right on ahead,” she tells him, placing her purse on the counter. “Make yourself comfortable.”

There’s a hum and Yachi smiles, goes to her tiptoes to grab a bottle of vodka and then a bottle of cointreau. Footsteps sound behind her and Yachi closes her eyes when large hands settle on her waist, when Kuroo leans down so his lips brush near her ear. She can smell his cologne, a bit spicy and absolutely tantalizing, and feels her pulse speed up ever so slightly, leans into his touch and tries not to shiver.

“Mind if I borrow your restroom?” he asks, rubbing his hands up her sides a bit. She shakes her head and he hums, the sound low enough to make her insides want to melt. “Thanks, kitten.”

Kuroo backs away and Yachi holds her breath, waits until she hears the bathroom door open and close before grabbing the counter and letting out her breath in a huge woosh.

Okay. So maybe she’s starting to get a little nervous. It _has_ been a while since she’s done anything. The alcohol in her veins is helping soothe her apprehension but she’s still a little jittery, the tiniest bit worried she won’t live up to whatever he’s expecting.

It’ll be okay, she tells herself. It’ll be fine.

She’s so glad she shaved earlier.

Kuroo comes back after a few minutes and Yachi is calmed back down by then, a cocktail in her hand and a composed smile on her lips. She turns around and watches him walk to her, eyes his forearms and the way his tongue runs over his lips, slow and enticing. He’s rolled his sleeves up and loosened his tie and god is this relaxed state of his so, so _good_.

Yachi stays still, maybe unnaturally so, in an effort to not seem too eager, too wanting. She softens a little when he stops in front of her, places his hands on her waist. He’s so, so close and so, so _tall_. His hands are so big and she wishes he would pull her closer, is tingling with that terrible and lovely sense of anticipation.

When is he going to kiss her?

Kuroo slips his thumbs underneath her sweater, rubs right against the skin by her hipbones. The sensation makes her want to squirm but she manages to keep herself still, lets her lashes lower as she looks up to him and raises the glass.

“What is it?” he asks, thumbs swiping firmly over her skin. The pads of the digits are slightly rough and she loves how they feel against her. “It’s pretty. Almost as pretty as you.”

Yachi gives a pleased huff of laughter and feels herself flush, tries not to bite her lip.

“Cheesy, Kuroo-san,” she murmurs to him, swallowing shallowly as her heart starts to skip faster. He just grins at her, waggles his brows and draws out a laugh from her. “It’s called Persephone.”

“Mm, what’s in it?” he asks. He removes one hand from her waist and she nearly pouts at the loss but smiles as he sips the drink, licks his lips after. “It’s good.”

“Vodka, cointreau, and pomegranate juice,” Yachi informs him. She tugs on her bottom lip with her teeth and takes breath, makes a bold move and wraps her fingers around his wrist, pulls the drink down so she can sip from it as well. She purposefully leaves a drop of alcohol clinging to her bottom lip, leans her face up a bit more. “And half a lime.”

Yachi watches him breathe deep, stays carefully still so the drop doesn’t fall. His eyes stay zeroed in on her lips and she lets her hand fall from his wrist, draws her fingers down his chest as she does. Kuroo slowly reaches behind her to place the glass on the counter and then brings his hand up, gently swipes the bead of liquor clinging to her lip. He presses his fingertip against her lips and her insides shiver, pulse racing as she opens her mouth and flicks her tongue against the digit.

His eyes go dark with that and there’s a suspended moment of anticipation, loud and heavy and cloying. Kuroo traces his finger over her jawline, presses it under her chin and tilts her face up a bit more, leans down so their lips nearly brush against each other.

“Kitten, you are a _treat_.”

Yachi takes a shaky breath but then lets out a soft wanting noise, curls her fingers against his chest as Kuroo closes that miniscule gap between their lips and finally kisses her.

 _Finally_.

It’s almost a bit embarrassing how quickly she melts against him but it’s been so, so long since she’s done _anything_ with _anyone_ and Kuroo is _talented_.

He wraps his arms around her and pulls her tight against him, teeth nipping at her bottom lip as he backs them against the counter more. Her back bends as he hunches over her and she opens her mouth to him, lets him slide his tongue in to brush over hers, taste the roof of her mouth and the edges of her teeth. Kuroo kisses her until she feels a little dizzy, smooths his mouth down her chin and to her neck. He bites into it and she give a breathy whine, shivers when his hands move to run over her sides, squeeze them.

“Bed?” he mumbles against her skin, nosing up her throat to nip at her earlobe.

Already. He’s _already_ wanting to go to her bed, pin her down and unravel her. He’s eager for her and that’s good- she’s eager for him too.

And, _goodness_ , what an ego stroke.

“Bed? Um- _oh_.” Yachi cuts herself off with a gasp when his tongue traces over the curl of her ear, grabs onto his shirt tighter. “Y-yes, please.”

There’s a pleased groan from him and Kuroo squeezes her waist again, _lifts_ her up. She wraps her legs around him, laughs a little shakily when he pulls his head from the crook of her neck, presses a kiss to the tip of her nose. It’s dorky and cute and makes it a little less swoon worthy when he carries her over to the bed, lays her out.

It takes a split second for the mood to shift again, Kuroo crawling over with a hungry grin. He dips down to kiss her but pauses and Yachi frowns, pouts a bit when his gaze is distracted from her.

“Oh ho, _kitten_ ,” Kuroo purrs, his lips curling into an amused little smirk. Yachi blinks as he reaches over her, sits up and grins down at her. “You are just _full_ of surprises.”

She opens her mouth to ask what he means and then flushes furiously when he brings his hand into her line of sight, dangles the ball gag in front of her.

Oh. Oh _god_. She had completely forgotten about that. Oh, he’s going to get the wrong idea.

“I, um, I,” Yachi squeaks, flushing even more as his grin grows. “Um, that’s...it’s-”

“A ball gag,” he finishes for her, grabbing the other leather strap and stretching it between his hands. “What a _naughty_ little kitten you are.”

She blushes and he smirks, leans back down closer to her, hunching over her and letting out an amused hum.

“I didn’t expect you to be into this,” Kuroo teases.

Yachi tries not to squirm and bites her bottom lip, almost pouts as he chuckles.

“I...I don’t know if I am,” Yachi mumbles to him, sliding her gaze to the side in an effort to escape her embarrassment. “I-It’s something I ordered a while back. It-It just came in today.”

She’s reverting back to her former shyness under this unexpected development and she’s frustrated with herself but more so a little curious, hesitant and a bit...hopeful? _Is_ that hope in her heart? She _had_ been wondering about how she would get the chance to use it.

“Really?” Kuroo asks, voice almost pensive. “You haven’t used it yet?”

“N-no,” she tells him, voice nearly timid. “I...I’ve never used one before. I, um, was just curious and…”

There’s a hum from him and she works up the courage to look up at Kuroo, bites her lip at the thoughtful look on his face, the slight edge of hunger in his eyes. He looks her over and drops one end of the gag, shakes it a little in his grasp.

“Well...do you want to try it?” he asks her. “We could.”

Yachi’s eyes widen and she feels her lips part, takes a shaky breath.

Oh. Oh. He wants to use it. They could...she could…

Yachi trembles underneath him and nods, nervous and wanting and so terribly eager for it. Kuroo softens a little and reaches his free hand to her cheek, caresses it with one finger and then cups it.

“We don’t have to,” he tells her, voice reassuring in a way she wouldn’t expect. “It’s fine.”

“No, no,” she mumbles, maybe a bit too quickly. She bites her lip and looks up at him with a nearly embarrassed expression, lashes lowered and cheeks flared up bright. “I...please?”

In an instant, there’s that cutting hunger across his face again, eyes narrowing with something she _thinks_ is satisfaction. He takes a deep breath and then nods, leans down to give her a kiss. She accepts it and slowly relaxes with it, melts underneath the way one hand cups her cheek, moves to tangle into her hair and how the other roams over her side, squeezes gently at her breast through her sweater. It slowly gets deeper and hungrier, works up to something a bit more greedy again.

Kuroo pulls back from her when she whines into the kiss, looks at her through half-shut eyes and rests his forehead against hers.

“Is there anything else you want to try?” he asks, voice almost a little rough. “Have you ever been tied up?”

Yachi blinks and then flutters her eyes close, tries to imagine it and ends up letting out a quiet little wanting noise, squirming underneath him.

“Do you want to try it?” he asks, mumbling against her lips. She shivers and he noses against her cheek, presses a kiss to her temple. “You’d look so fucking pretty.”

The thought of being praised by him, told she looks good for him while tied up, helpless to his whims, and wearing the _gag_ makes her shake and she squeezes her eyes shut tighter, nods.

It’s so much trust to put into someone she honestly barely knows but...he’s handsome and he feels good above her and she _wants_ and she feels brave if nervous so...so…

Yachi swallows and looks up at him, nearly shrinks back into the bed when she sees how intense his gaze is. It’s wolfish and hungry, sharp and piercing. Almost predatory. It makes her feel small and maybe a little scared but sort of thrilled as well.

“Have-Have you ever done it before?” she asks, voice almost squeaking.

He nods and backs away a little, runs his hands over her sides over her sweater. She arches up a little for him, breathes shakily as his hands slip under her clothes, squeezes at her waist.

“Once or twice,” he tells her. “Maybe three or four times.”

Yachi lets out a shaky laugh and smiles, licks and then bites her lip. He grins and squeezes her waist again, looks at her thoughtfully before slipping his hands from out beneath her sweater and cupping her face.

“I’ll take care of you,” Kuroo promises. “It’s a lot to ask but...will you trust me? I’ll make you feel _so_ good, kitten.”

She swallows and searches his face for any ill intent, any wish for harm. He’s hungry and intense as he stares down at her but he doesn’t seem like he would do anything to hurt her. And _god_ he’s so handsome and it’s been so, so _long_ for her and she _thinks_ she wants what he’s offering, _thinks_ she can trust him.

“If it gets to be too much, you can tell me to stop,” he tells her, smoothing his thumbs over her cheekbones. “I won’t push you. I just want to have fun with you, kitten.”

Yachi runs her gaze over his face once more and then swallows, presses up into his touch and nods, gives into her want.

Something new with someone new. It’ll be fine.

“...please,” she whispers to him.

He hums, a satisfied smile crossing over his face before he gives her a little kiss to her forehead.

“Alright, kitten,” Kuroo says with a smile. “Why don’t you get nice and relaxed for me while I grab some things? I want to make this good for you.”

She feels her face scrunch in confusion but gives a nod after a moment, shows him her consent. He grins and pats her cheek, presses another kiss to her before retreating from the bed.

Yachi takes a deep breath and trembles a little, closes her eyes and runs a hand through her hair.

Well. Her night is taking a turn for the interesting.

* * *

It takes Kuroo ten minutes or so before he comes back. Yachi gathers herself in that time, strips herself down to just her bra and panties, her garter belt and her stockings. She feels glad for the curtains around her bed, hides behind them and doesn’t peek out to see what he’s doing.

She tries to arrange herself prettily for him, like she had seen in the photos on tumblr when she did her curious browsing. She’s not sure what he wants to do or how she’s supposed to act but she knows she wants to try, is buzzing with excitement and nervousness.

Yachi clasps her hands together tighter when she hears his footsteps draw near, takes a deep breath and straightens her back, drops her head demurely. She closes her eyes when she feels the mattress shift with his added weight, tries not to shiver when a finger slips under her chin. He tilts her head up and she flutters her lashes open, breathes shallow and quick when she sees the pleased look on his face.

“You really haven’t done this before?” he asks. She shakes her head ever so slightly and Kuroo hums, brushes his knuckles over her cheek. “That’s a surprise.”

Yachi smiles at him, the expression small but a little pleased, bites her lip and presses into his touch a bit.

“What...what did you get?” she asks him, voice coming out closer to a whisper than she’d like.

His smile turns into a grin, charming and boyish, and Yachi relaxes a bit with it. Kuroo leans back and Yachi drops her eyes to the bed, tilts her head to the side as she eyes all that he had gathered.

“Well,” he tells her, clapping his hands together and then spreading them. “So, I snooped around a bit. Probably should have asked first, sorry.”

Yachi shakes her head and lifts her gaze, squeezes her hands so she doesn’t reach out to touch anything.

An old beach towel and a bottle of baby oil. One of her new paintbrushes and a few random clothespins. All of it looks innocent but she doesn’t know what he’ll do with it. The clothespins make her nervous and she’s not sure she wants them near her.

“Um, so I thought maybe...a massage, to help you relax?” Kuroo tells her, voice almost a little hesitant, his eyes searching her for disinterest. “And you could tell me what you like during it? And then...maybe I can use the belt to tie your wrists to the headboard? Or maybe my tie?”

The idea is...appealing. Relaxing before jumping into it is _very_ appealing. She nods her approval and glances at the clothespins, looks up at him questioningly.

“Oh, um, I didn’t know if you were into pain or anything so I just grabbed them,” he says almost sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. Yachi wrinkles her nose and he pushes them away from her, nods. “Okay, none of that then.”

“What...what about the paintbrush?” she asks him, looking at it in confusion.

“Uh, a sensation play sort of thing,” Kuroo informs her. “Sort of...tickling? It can be fun. I know that I like it.”

Yachi thinks it over but nods, decides she’s maybe willing to try it out. Kuroo grins and rubs the back of his neck again, moves his hand to reach out and pet her cheek.

“Alright then, kitten,” he tells her, “remember that you can tell me if you don’t enjoy it.”

She nods and he leans to kiss her, cups her face and nibbles at her bottom lip. It’s easy to fall into the needy sort of eagerness again and she quickly relaxes under his wandering hands. He doesn’t fully touch her at first, just skirts his fingers over her sides and thighs, moves to brush them over her neck and down her spine. He toys with the straps of her bra, slides those thin straps down her shoulders and then smooths his palms over her arms and slips them to her back, fiddles with the fasteners until he undoes her bra.

Kuroo still doesn’t really touch her even when he pushes her bra off her, just barely skims his hands over her breasts as he keeps kissing her deeply, slowly, _wonderfully_. It’s not too much but it’s not enough and Yachi lets out a soft, wanting noise, pulls back to look at him with a surely needy gaze. He just smiles at her and touches her cheek, grazes his finger over her jawline before running it down the very center of her chest, her stomach.

“You’re so pretty, kitten,” he hums out, some soft sigh let out after.

She blushes and he grins, leans down to press his lips to her chest. His lips smooth down the line that his finger had traced and she nearly squirms from it, swallows when he shifts and his mouth reaches the garter belt, when his teeth tug at it carefully. Yachi leans back and goes to her elbows so the angle is less awkward, bites her lip when his hands run down her thighs, pluck at the lacy straps holding her stockings up.

“Classy,” Kuroo mumbles against her, one kiss pressed to her stomach before he tilts his head up and grins at her. “I like your style.”

A little smile curls up on her lips and she lets out a soft, pleased sound. This is more relaxing than she imagined, less intimidating and a bit more easy going. She thinks she would like something more strict in the future, maybe, but right now this is perfect, just what she needs to keep the excitement and courage for this to continue.

Kuroo unclips the suspenders from her stockings, slips his hands behind her back and unfastens the belt. He tosses it off of her and then to the side, almost immediately presses his lips to the top of her left thigh. They travel down so, so slowly as he slides her stocking down her leg, kisses rained on her so gently. Her thigh, her knee, her calf, the top of her foot. The process makes her eyes go half-shut and has her cheeks flushing and, when he repeats it with her right leg, she bites her lip, sighs his name out.

Thank god she shaved.

The last thing to go is her panties and it takes him _ages_ to pull them off, his fingers hooking underneath the hem and inching them down in the most _achingly_ slow manner. Yachi lifts her hips to help him and he hums, noses against the side of her breast and up to her neck, gives it a kiss and then a nip.

“I could just eat you up,” he tells her softly, pulling her panties to the middle of her thighs. “Would you like that, kitten?”

Yachi shivers and closes her eyes, nods as Kuroo smiles against her neck. There’s a pleased hum and then he pulls her panties the rest of the way down, tosses them to the side somewhere before placing a kiss to her cheek.

“Massage first,” Kuroo declares. “Scoot over a little so I can lay the towel out.”

Yachi opens her eyes and nods, crawls out of the way and watches as he lays the towel out on her bed. She feels a little odd with him still being dressed and her completely nude but...she kind of likes it, she thinks. It makes her feel...exposed? but in a good way, a nice way. It lends him a sense of power, another layer to the feeling that he’s leading the way. It’s nice. She likes it.

“Alright, kitten,” he tells her. “On your stomach.”

Yachi lays down obediently, moves her hair out of the way and waits patiently for him to start, buries her face into her arms. She’s glad she can hide a little, that she won’t have to look at him when they talk it out.

Kuroo is surprisingly more thoughtful than she expected.

There’s the sound of some movement and she jumps a tiny bit when his hands touch her shoulders. She relaxes almost immediately, though, and takes a breath, buries her face into her arms some more. Kuroo is quiet for a few moments and simply draws his hands over her shoulders, the planes of her back. They retreat for a moment but then return to her, wet and slick and soft as they move to knead at her shoulders.

“So,” he says in a low, pleasing tone that makes her want to curl her toes, “let’s start out with something easy. You like dirty talk or no?”

Yachi very nearly squirms at the question but forces herself to stay still and pliant for him, takes a breath and wrinkles her nose.

“I…” Yachi pauses and thinks for a moment, tries to decide how to put it. “I...like it. Some of it. I don’t like...I don’t like when it’s _mean_. And I’m, um, not very good at returning it.”

He hums and Yachi feels a thrum of worry run through her, hopes that it isn’t a disappointment. It’s just that talking during is _hard_ for her and can be overwhelming in a way that isn't pleasant.

Maybe that’s why the ball gag is so appealing; she can’t say anything even if for some odd reason she wants to. The expectation isn’t there.

“And what about names?” Kuroo asks, digging the heel of his hand right underneath her shoulder in a way that makes her want to moan. “How do you feel about them?”

“I like when you call me kitten,” Yachi mumbles, her cheeks turning a bit pink. “I like pet names.”

Another hum from him, thoughtful and pleasantly deep. He drags the heel of his palm against her skin and then in a little circle, almost has her arching her back from that motion.

“I see,” Kuroo says, voice maybe just a hint pensive. She thinks she can detect a smile in it but doesn’t try to check, instead keeps laying docile underneath him. “I think I know what you like.”

Yachi raises a brow and closes her eyes when he presses his hands a little harder against her, slides them back up to her shoulders and begins to massage them again.

“Already?” she asks him, voice a murmur.

Kuroo lets out an affirmative little noise and works his hands in a clever way, has her sighing softly and beginning to melt for him so, so easily.

“ _You_ ,” Kuroo tells her, words quiet and very nearly amused, “like praise. Soft teasing. Being lead around but not bullied into anything. A lighter power dynamic. A bit of spoiling.”

A flush crosses her face because all of that _does_ sound appealing and Yachi buries her face in her arms, gives a nod.

Is she really that transparent?

“What...what do you like?” Yachi asks him in return, gathering up the courage to listen.

She could almost swear that he shrugs at the question but has no way of knowing, gets distracted from that feeling when his hands slip lower, move to brush his fingers over her rib cage.

“Different things,” he tells her. “I like pleasing my partner. Experimenting. I’m flexible.”

Yachi hums and then takes a breath, stays quiet for a few moments as he works her over.

“I...don’t know how I’m supposed to act,” she admits quietly, words tinted a little embarrassed. “I don’t know what you expect from me.”

Kuroo snorts but somehow it doesn’t seem unkind and he pauses in his ministrations, leans down to brush his lips near her ear.

“Kitten, I just expect you to be yourself,” he tells her. “I’m not going to make you call me anything. I mean, you can if you want. I’m cool with whatever. And I’m not going to expect you to obey me without hesitation. You just react and enjoy and let me know what feels good, stop me when it doesn’t.”

Yachi lets out a pleased noise and nods, smiles when he presses a kiss to her cheek before straightening back up.

For someone that looks so sly and sleazy, Kuroo is turning out to be delightfully obliging.

He continues to knead at her back and make her melt, peppers her with questions as she slowly turns into a puddle underneath him.

Is she ticklish? Does she like being tickled? How comfortable is she with him eating her out? Does she know the stoplight system? How many times can she come before it gets to be too much? Is it okay if he moves her how he wants? What’s her favorite position? Is there any that she doesn’t like?

He asks so many questions, is surprisingly thorough with it all. He slips them in between the sighs he pulls out from her, the soft moans and hums. Kuroo doesn’t do it in a way that makes her feel skittish and Yachi just softens so completely underneath him, falls almost drowsy from all the touches and the way his voice stays low, quiet.

His hands finally smooth down over her waist and rest on her ass, linger there as he kneads that soft, soft flesh.

“Do you like spanking?” he asks.

Yachi hums and turns her head to the side, sighs contentedly and moves her shoulders in a lazy shrug.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “I’ve never really tried it…”

She trails off and Kuroo squeezes her cheeks a bit harder, makes something enjoyable flash through her with it.

“Do you want to try?” he offers. There’s an edge to the question, something a bit hungry, and it makes Yachi blink. “We don’t have to.”

Yachi presses against his touch to show her compliance and mumbles out that it’s fine, closes her eyes and waits for it with a light buzz of excitement dancing under her skin. He doesn’t do it right away and keeps touching at her ass, squeezing and palming it until his touch gets lighter and lighter and his hands finally lift away. Yachi finds herself holding her breath, anticipation beginning to rouse her from her drowsy state, and tries not to tense up as she waits.

One long moment and then another and another. A small frown begins to form on her face and she nearly looks back at him but then his hand falls and she gasps quietly, twitches a little.

“ _Oh_.”

She barely registers his huff of amusement, gets caught up in her surprise because she _thinks_ she wants more. She never really thought it would be something she would be into, but she wants him to do it again.

And maybe a bit harder.

Almost as if he’s read her mind, Kuroo asks her if she wants him to do it again and she nods, murmurs her consent and buries her face into her arms. He doesn’t make her wait as long this time and the hit of his hand is a bit more powerful, brings a sting that makes her hips arch up after. There’s a deep breath from him and he cups her ass, gives a squeeze.

“Like it?” he asks, voice rough.

Yachi blushes but mumbles out a “Y-yeah” to him, swallows and eases her hips back down, tries not to feel embarrassed by her reaction. It’s just that it’s _new_ for her and new means that her old shyness is creeping over her, that she’s reverting into the uncertain but cautiously eager state that used to hold her before she grew more confident, experienced.

Kuroo lets out a pleased hum and palms her again, runs his hands over her hips and down to the tops of her thighs.

“Can I do more?” he asks hers. “Can I have you over my lap?”

Yachi nods and he groans quietly, gives her ass a smack before telling her to lay across his lap. She takes a shaky breath before pushing herself from the bed, bites her lip as she looks over at him, sees that his eyes are hooded and dark, that his tongue is running over his teeth as he looks her over.

Hungry. He looks so _hungry_ for her.

She shivers and then settles over his lap, swallows back a wanting noise when she feels him against her. He’s hard and that’s pleasing and she wonders how long he’s going to hold off before he takes her.

Kuroo runs his hand over her, from the nape of her neck and over her spine, down to her ass so he can cup and squeeze it. Yachi presses up into his touch almost subconsciously and he squeezes her a bit rougher, gives her cheeks one sharp spank that makes her whimper and then mewl.

“Too much?” he asks, rubbing over her with a light touch.

Yachi shakes her head and trembles ever so slightly, curls her fingers into the covers and bites her lip.

“N-No,” she tells him, voice close to a whisper. “More, please.”

He groans and there’s another spank, a little bit more heavy handed. She moans softly this time and shivers, hides her face in the covers as she arches her hips up in an unspoken plea for more.

“Good girl,” he mutters, voice rough. “That’s...fuck, it’s pretty, kitten. You’re so _tiny_.”

Something warm flares up in her from the praise and she whimpers, cries out when his hand smacks across her again. He gives her just the barest moment to relax before he spanks her again, harder and giving a groan as she shivers and lets out a whine. There’s another and another and another, Kuroo spanking her until she’s squirming on his lap and whimpering, until he has to hold an arm down over her so she doesn’t crawl right off.

His hand smooths over her cheek, her ass a little heated and stinging, tender as she struggles with the urge to push into his touch and the urge to move away. Kuroo rubs at her ass but then draws his hand down to her thigh, squeezes it before sliding a finger through her slit. The touch makes her flush but she tries to press into it, whines softly when he chuckles.

“So wet,” Kuroo teases. “You liked it that much?”

Yachi squirms and buries her face into the covers, nods even if it makes her a little embarrassed. He lets out a satisfied hum, gives her one last, gentle spank before lifting his hands from her. She frowns when he’s not touching her and turns her head, peeks up at him and blushes when he grins down at her.

“Does kitten want more?” he asks her, moving to brush his fingers over her cheek. They’re still a teeny tiny oily from the baby oil but she doesn’t mind, nods and bites her lip. “Hands and knees for me, Yacchan. Lift your hips up high.”

She hesitates for a brief moment before crawling into the middle of the bed, positions herself as told and waits to see what he wants to do. There’s a slight impatience thrumming through her and she has to force herself not to wiggle, bites her lip when she wonders when he’ll bind her, slip the gag on her.

Those thoughts disappear as soon as his hands fall on her thighs, when he spreads her legs further apart and then leans down to her, runs his tongue over her slit. Yachi inhales shakily and fists the covers, tries not to get too worked up too quick.

She really can’t remember the last time someone has done this for her. Even with her last encounter, they hadn’t bothered going down on her. So this is nice. This is _very_ nice. The way he parts her folds with his tongue, the way he flicks at her clit with it... _god_.

Yachi mewls and presses her hips back against his face lightly, blushes when he groans, quiet and low. His hand moves to rub at her stomach and she instinctively sucks it in, flexes away from his touch. But then she relaxes and he hums against her, slides his hand over her belly and then moves to rest on her hip, pull her tighter against his face.

She’s glad for the position, for how she doesn’t have to look and see. It’s so much to have him so close and she squeezes her eyes shut, tightens her grip on the covers when he thumbs across her clit, moves to just barely scrape his teeth over it. The sensation makes her squirm and his fingers on her hip dig into her skin. He tries it again and Yachi gasps, whines softly.

“I- _oh_ \- that…” She trails off and whimpers, rocks back against him. “I…”

Kuroo hums and runs his tongue over her slit, moves and sucks at her so her hips arch up even more. He slides his tongue within her and then she just gets lost in it, slowly starts to fall apart as he fucks his tongue into her, thumbs at her clit. She thinks he gets lost in it too because he just presses _tight_ against her, squeezes at her hip before pulling his hand back and giving her a sharp spank.

Yachi can’t help the moan that rips from her throat, loud and verging on a whine. He spanks her again and her hips jerk, grind ever so slightly back against him.

Kuroo eats her out until her thighs shake, backs away and makes her whimper in distress. He kisses at her thighs, nibbles at them until she calms back down and then dives right back in, almost growls against her as she mewls his name.

He brings her to the edge again and again, until she gives a soft sob and hides her face in the covers, begs him _please_. Kuroo groans and noses against her, runs his tongue over her slit one last time before pulling away. A noise of protest slips from her but then he shifts, braces himself over her with one hand and brushes his fingers over her with the other.

“Please what?” he asks her, lips brushing over her ear. “What do you want, kitten? Use your words.”

Oh, that’s not _fair_. She told him she’s not good with this. And she’s _close_ and his fingers are _right there_ against her and she _wants_ him and it’s so hard to _tell_ him but she _needs_.

Kuroo grazes his teeth over the curl of her ear and she trembles, rocks her hips back against his fingers in an effort to get them closer- _in_ her. He moves them away with a chuckle, a chiding little nip given to her earlobe.

“Ask,” he tells her- orders her- in a teasing little voice. “Ask for it, kitten. Like a good girl.”

Not _fair_.

But also somehow...good? She’s never really been made to ask or beg and there’s the promise of praise attached so...maybe...she can…

Yachi shivers and drops her head, bites her lip and then lets it go as she gathers up her desire, pushes it up above her embarrassment.

“P-Please?” she asks softly, swallowing a whimper when his fingers return to her, when he noses against her neck. “I...I want to come, please.”

“Oh, that’s so _pretty_ , kitten,” Kuroo mumbles against her throat, nipping at it. She thinks he’s smiling against it but can’t really concentrate on that thought because after the praise he circles his thumb over her clit, runs it down her slit and presses it right against her entrance. “Why don’t you say it again?”

Yachi feels her face scrunch into an upset pout, her bottom lip wobbling with the childish petulance that runs through her because she’s _not getting her way_.

 _Not fair. Not fair. Not fair_ , her mind chants.

But she wants to come (of course she does, he brought her to the edge so many times) and she wants to hear that she’s good and whenever she tries to push back against him, he moves his thumb from her.

Yachi almost sniffles but nods again, squeezes her eyes shut tight as he sucks on her earlobe.

“Please let me come,” Yachi begs in her prettiest voice- the one she’s learned that she can use to get her way. “Please? I want- I want to come.”

He lets out something that’s near a growl, something that makes her moan, and then he grinds down against her, thumb moving up her slit and swiping over her clit.

“Again,” he tells her, voice holding a rough edge. “You’re being so good, kitten.”

Then why isn’t he touching her? Bringing her to the edge (again) and letting her come?

Her bottom lip trembles a bit more and that tremble travels down her body until she’s arching her back and grinding against his digit in a tight little movement.

How can she be better? How can she get him to bring her to the edge and then _over_ it?

Yachi swallows and tries to gather her thoughts, thinks of what she’s seen before, read before. All those little blog posts she read when researching flit through her mind and Yachi takes a breath, shaky and wanting, when one word sticks out to her.

Oh, oh she hopes that it’s not going to make things weird. But, well, she saw the word so many times and it’s a _thing_ apparently and she kind of likes the idea so…

Yachi breathes in deep and squeezes her eyes shut tight, grinds back against him and tells herself it’ll be okay.

“Please let me come,” she whispers to him, begging quietly. Her voice wavers and she knows it sounds weak but she _feels_ weak, uncertain and wanting. “Please? I...I’ll be g-good. I…” Another shaky breath, another tremble. “Daddy, _please_.”

There’s a sharp space of silence and Yachi tenses up, heart dropping and adrenaline spiking because _oh no oh no oh no_ she messed up. Panic wracks through her and she tries to swallow her whimper, shakes and tries to push back the white hot dread that’s seeping into her veins.

A chuckle sounds and Yachi snaps her head up, brow furrowing and heart pounding too fast.

“Oh, kitten,” Kuroo practically purrs, “you’re such a good, good girl.” He dips his head down to nuzzle at her neck, places a kiss to it. “You can call me daddy if you want. You can call me whatever you like.”

There’s another chuckle and she feels herself relax, feels herself blush, though, because Kuroo seems _amused_ with it. She squirms and rocks her hips back against him, tries to get him to slip his fingers inside of her. Now that he’s told her that it’s okay and now that she’s said it aloud, she’s not sure how to feel about it outside of frail relief. It felt good but now Yachi feels shy, wants to go with something a little more...safe?

“Sir?” she asks, voice hesitant and questioning.

“That works,” he tells her, pressing another kiss to her neck. “Whatever you want.”

Yachi nods and rocks her hips again, tries to turn her head to look at him. “Please?”

Kuroo huffs and moves away from her, puts his hands on her waist and then pulls her back with him, has her falling back against his chest with a surprised squeak. Before she can say anything, his hands grip her thighs and he spreads her legs, brushes his fingers up her inner thighs and then draws one through her slit. She mewls and he presses his lips to the top of her head, chuckles quietly.

Yachi thinks about pouting at how he keeps laughing but then he slips two fingers inside of her and immediately curls them, has her throwing her head back against his chest and whining softly.

“Mm, that’s it, kitten,” Kuroo mutters, his free hand rubbing against her thigh. “You feel so good. So wet. And all your little sounds are so pretty.”

A moan slips from her at the praise and she tilts her head, looks up at him through her lashes and rolls her her hips against his fingers. Kuroo moves his hand from her thigh to her face and cups it, dips his head down to kiss her. He swallows her whimpers and mewls, pumps and curls his fingers within her. His wrist twists and then he thumbs across her clit, bites at her bottom lip as she gasps.

It’s so easy to get her close again and she ends up letting her lashes flutter shut, ends up whining his name against his lips. Kuroo spreads his fingers and adds a third, has her shuddering out a half-sob and trembling against him with need.

“Please, please,” she mewls. “Pl-please. I- oh, _please_.”

Her voice pitches up with her pleading and she whimpers after, creaks open her eyes and looks at him through a hazy gaze. Kuroo groans and shifts the angle of fingers, brushes up against that sweet spot that makes her sees stars. She comes with a moan and he works her through it, presses their lips together in an almost sloppy kiss as she shivers against him.

He slips his fingers from her and then brings them up, pulls away from her so he can trace them over her mouth. She keeps her lips parted for him and lets him slip them in, sucks on them as she blinks away the pleasant light headedness of her orgasm.

“Better?” he asks her, some sort of tease in his voice. Yachi nods and flicks her tongue between his fingers, smiles when his eyes narrow with satisfaction. “Good. You feel up for trying the rest now? The gag and all that?”

Yachi sucks on his fingers and then pulls away with a nip to them, nods.

“Um...maybe not the paintbrush?” she says hesitantly, almost feeling a little guilty. “The rest, though, please.”

Kuroo smiles and nods, presses a kiss to her forehead.

“That’s fine, kitten,” he tells her. He pauses and a more serious look crosses his face. “You sure you want it? I’m cool with whatever, I promise. I could just eat you out for the rest of the night if you want.”

Yachi flushes a tiny bit and gives a soft laugh, leans up a bit shakily and kisses him.

“I want it,” she reassures him. “Please?”

She pairs it with a wide eyed, innocent look and he grins down at her, the tilt of his lips hungry and sharp. He draws his finger over her jawline and thumbs across her bottom lip, shakes his head a little as he looks down at her.

“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” he hums out, grin growing wider. “Pretty little kitten knows _just_ how to use what she has to get what she wants.”

Her flush darkens and he laughs, pets at her cheek and boops at her nose. It doesn’t seem unkind and he seems a little pleased by it somehow- she thinks, at least, judging by how his eyes seem to darken even more.

“Alright, kitten,” he tells her, “you want the belt or the tie?”

Yachi bites her lip and then plucks at his tie, toys with it and gives it a little tug as she flicks her gaze up at him through her lashes.

“The tie, please,” she decides.

“An _excellent_ choice, Yacchan,” Kuroo commends, pulling back and starting to loosen it some more. “Why don’t you get yourself comfortable against the pillows?”

She nods and crawls over to the pillows, feels a shiver of excitement run through her as she eyes the bars of her headboard. She moves things around a little and blushes when it reveals one of her vibrators, ducks her head a bit sheepishly when she hears Kuroo chuckle.

“Kitten has some toys,” he drawls, teasing. “Man, I bet no one would would guess you’re as naughty as you are. Such a _nice_ little surprise.”

Yachi nearly hides her face in her hands but keeps herself from it, takes some small bit of pride in the fact that Kuroo seems to be enjoying himself. She smiles instead and takes a deep breath, leans back against the pillows as prettily as she can and waits to be tied up.

He takes his time with it. First he unknots the tie and then slides it off, loops it over the palm of one hand and and grabs the loose end with the other, snaps it like he would the belt. She shivers as he moves to her, slowly leaning and shifting forward with a predatory look in his eyes. It’s a little cutting and a little nerve wracking but in a _good_ way and Yachi bites her lip, parts her legs when he places a hand to her knee, glides it up to her thigh.

Anticipation buzzes just underneath her skin and she smiles with just a touch of apprehension, an odd sort of numbness filling her lips, her breath coming a bit shallow and quick. It’s the same feeling she gets when waiting in line to ride some terrifying thing at an amusement park, a jumbled up mess of excitement and anxiety and even a bit of bubbly giddiness that _almost_ makes her want to giggle.

Kuroo smiles at her and kisses her, does it slow and deep and makes her almost shake from it. She curls her fingers into his shirt, diverts some of her flustered energy into nibbling at his bottom lip, slipping her tongue into his mouth and trying to entice him to hurry things along. He doesn’t but cups her face instead, draws out a moan from her before he runs his hands down either side of her neck, over her shoulders and along her arms. He wraps his hands around her wrists and then slowly- so very slowly- pulls them above her head and pins them against the headboard.

Yachi whimpers into the kiss and she feels him smirk against her lips before he pulls back just enough that their mouths can’t press against one another’s. She tries to lean up to kiss him again but he pulls back more, grins at her and pins her wrists tighter. She can’t move and it’s such a good, _good_ feeling.

Yachi trembles and he licks his lips, lets go of her wrists. She doesn’t make a move to pull her hands down and Kuroo gives her an approving hum before bringing the tie up and so very slowly binding her wrists together. She tugs on them and the tie holds fast, keeps her from reaching out to touch him.

“You like it?” Kuroo asks, nosing against her cheek and over to bite at the curl of her ear.

“Y-Yeah,” she tells him, voice shaking along with her fingertips, her patience. “T-The gag? Please?”

“Eager,” he teases her, tongue gliding along her ear’s shell. “Okay, kitten.”

Yachi nods and closes her eyes, tries to gather herself as he leans back to grab it.

She’s nervous. She’s excited. She almost feels like crying a little but she’s not upset, she thinks. She’s just...she doesn’t know. It’s just that it’s a lot and she wants him, wants this to go well.

“Open your eyes, Hitoka,” Kuroo says clearly, seriously.

The use of her given name makes her shiver and her eyes almost automatically snap open at the order, wide and questioning. His own are dark, sharp and piercing enough that she almost tries to curls her legs up and away from him. His lips are ordered into a firm line, stern and enticing in a way that she didn’t know she was into.

“You won’t be able to say a word once I put this on you,” he tells her, voice low and nearly intimidating. She didn’t know she was into that either but it makes her squirm and nod along. “You can’t beg, you can’t say no. You can’t protest against anything I whisper to you. You’ll be silenced and tied up. Completely vulnerable to my will. Do you understand?”

Yachi nods and takes a shaky breath, licks her lips in an effort to not whimper. Kuroo’s eyes go a bit more hooded and then he moves closer, holds the gag tight between his hands.

“Words,” he orders. “Tell me you understand.”

She does whimper then, closes her eyes tight and nods, breathes in as deep as she can with her apprehension stalling her lungs.

“I-I understand,” she mumbles. “Please.”

He hums and then there’s the touch of rubber to her lips. Yachi creaks her eyes open and trembles, looks up at him hazily.

“You want it?” Kuroo asks, voice so, so wonderfully low.

“Please,” she begs in one single, needy whisper.

The stern line of his lips curl into a smirk and he presses the gag against her a bit more firmly, lets out an approving noise when she opens her mouth and accepts it with a needy little whimper.

It tastes, expectedly, unpleasant. The fit is a bit more of a stretch than she imagined it would be and is slightly uncomfortable, made tighter when he fastens the straps. It’s not _terrible_ and she tests the give of the ball, tries to sink her teeth into it. Kuroo looks at her with a hint of amusement and she tries to huff, feels her insides twist in a strangely pleasant way when she can’t quite do it.

She can’t pout or huff, beg or plead. The most she can do is let out muffled little noises, soft things that are cut off and choked.

“Kick me if you want me to stop,” he mutters to her as he finishes tightening the straps. “I mean it. Don’t hesitate.”

Yachi nods, hopes she doesn’t have to.

Kuroo doesn’t touch her once the gag is on and in place. He backs away and runs his gaze over her almost lazily, appraisingly. His fingers work the buttons of his shirt and Yachi lets her eyes go a little half-shut as he slowly reveals his chest.

“It’s just as I thought,” he tells her. “You look fucking _gorgeous_ like this. Innocent looking little kitten all tied up like a naughty girl. You look so _lewd_ , Yacchan.”

She tries to whimper at the words, squirms the best she can and rubs her thighs together as he reveals an amazing set of abs, a thick happy trail running down the middle of a v cut that she _knows_ will be featuring in her fantasies for quite some time. The shirt gets pulled off fully and displays some _perfect_ biceps, an exquisite torso.

He’s fit and she wants to touch him so _bad_.

“Like what you see?” Kuroo asks, grinning and lifting an arm, flexing it. Yachi tries to laugh but it comes out distorted from behind the gag and Kuroo grins wider, runs his hands down his sides and to the waistband of his slacks. “Wait until you see the rest.”

The rest is _just_ as good as implied. Yachi feels weak when he reveals his thighs, when the slacks get flung off and tossed behind him. He’s so, so _hard_ underneath the black boxer briefs and there’s the instinct to lick her lips, crawl to him. But, of course, her tongue just tastes the rubber of the gag and her hands jerk against the tie.

It’s so incredibly frustrating but so incredibly satisfying at the same time.

“Oh ho?” Kuroo teases, thumbs dipping down under the hem of his underwear to snap it again his skin. “Kitten wants to touch?”

She squirms but nods, lets herself be honest with her desire. His grin goes toothy and then flits into a smirk. One hand runs up to rest against the back of his neck and the other tugs his underwear down at an angle, teases with a sneak peek at the side of the shaft before he hides it from sight again.

Tease. Kuroo is a tease.

Yachi can feel herself growing more wet, impatience making her rub her thighs together. There’s the slow build up of drool, too, and she swallows it down without thinking just to feel it begin to pool again moments later.

“I’m curious about how sweet your mouth is,” Kuroo tells her, squeezing at his cock through the underwear. “It’s one of the downsides of the gag. Though, I guess you would be gagging even if you weren’t wearing it.”

She blushes and he lets out a braying laugh, grins as she tries to send him a little look but isn’t quite able to manage it with the gag in place.

He moves over to her, presses a kiss to her forehead and the tip of her nose, skips down to her jawline and then smooths his mouth down to her neck. There’s a light bite and then a harder one, something that makes her try to press against him. The most she can manage is an arch of her neck, her chest. She feels him smile against her skin but then he replaces his mouth with his hand, smooths his thumb over her throat.

“I’d like to mark you up,” he murmurs to her. “Have you remember this for days on end.”

Yachi’s lashes flutter and Kuroo hums, squeezes her throat gently before taking his hand away. He scoots and then his lips are to the center of her chest.

First he mouths to her left breast, nips at the soft skin and then scrapes his teeth over her nipple. He bites gently and then laves his tongue over that hardened bud, sucks and makes her squirm before moving over to her right breast and repeating the same _wonderful_ motions.

Right as he begins to press kisses to her stomach, she has to swallow again, feels her drool wet her lips as it slips out from behind the gag. She quivers and he noses against her belly, pulls back and looks up at her with a nearly greedy light in his eyes.

“Pretty,” Kuroo tells her, rising back up and lifting a finger to run over her stretched out lips. “You’re going to get messy, kitten.”

The thought of being turned messy and lewd, turned into something more...erotic than she usually is made into makes her whimper from behind the gag and she tries to to press into his touch, show him she wants it. Kuroo just grins and moves his hand down low, rubs against her and gives some friction that she definitely needs. Yachi grinds against his hand and he hums, allows it for a few moments before pulling away.

This time when he hooks his fingers underneath his boxer briefs, he pulls them down in one fell swoop. Yachi’s eyes widen and then go half-shut when she sees him fully, her gaze going hazy and a heady feeling washing through her.

Kuroo has a _great_ cock.

Thick but not too thick. Heavy and hard, just long enough for her taste. It's flushed dark but shines with the glisten of pre-cum, stands up proudly. He’s trimmed and neat but not shaven, looks so incredibly inviting to her as she squirms and tries not to pull against the tie.

Oh, she _wants_ him. Oh, she _needs_ him.

He doesn’t move to her but wraps his hand around his shaft, pumps it and moves a thumb to smear the pre-cum over his head. Yachi chokes out a whine and a smirk forms on his face, tongue sliding along his lips and teeth showing with a grin.

Drool leaks from the corners of her lips, slowly begins to glide down her chin. Kuroo waits until the strand of spit that hangs from her chin snaps and falls to her flushed chest before moving back to her.

His hand falls to her knee and she parts her legs for him in a way she would never do any other time, looks at him pleadingly as his fingers skirt along the inside of her thigh and brush against her slit. She immediately tries to press against his touch and he draws his hand away, chuckles quietly as if seeing her squirm is the most amusing thing in the world.

“You want it?” Kuroo asks. “You want to be fucked, kitten?”

Yachi whimpers and nods, rolls her hips up the best she can. He smirks, he grins, he eyes her as if she’s a rare sort of treat.

It’s a wonderful feeling but _god_ does she want to touch him.

Yachi tugs on the tie and looks up to it, looks back at him and feels her face try to contort into a pout. Kuroo just licks his lips, reaches a hand to brush his knuckles over her cheek and run his fingers through her hair.

“Don’t worry, kitten,” he tells her, petting at her hair. “I’m going to fuck you. You’ve been a _good_ girl and you’re really just too pretty to pass up.”

Her lashes flutter and she tries to nuzzle against his palm, tries to press more into his touch. Something fond and pleased crosses over his face and then he moves away, digs into his slacks and takes out his wallet, pulls out a condom. A whine manages to escape from her but it’s muffled and odd, made into something she can’t quite recognize.

Kuroo tears the foil open with his teeth and slides the condom on in a practiced motion, turns to her and runs his hand through his hair. It doesn’t take a moment for him to settle between her legs again but it still feels like much too long and she nearly bucks when he grabs his cock, teases it against her slit.

“Come as much as you want,” Kuroo tells her, voice nearly a purr. “But I’m not stopping until I get off.”

She blinks at him and nods, tries to rock her hips against him and furrows her brow when he pins them down so she can’t. Kuroo moves his hands up her sides and she obediently keeps her hips down even if she wants push back against him, try to take him in. He touches at her, caresses the lines of her ribs and squeezes at her breasts. Kuroo even scratches her a bit- not enough to hurt but enough to make her squirm.

He’s right there against her, his cock laying over her mound and _teasing_. It’s not _fair_ and she wants to ask him to fuck her, please but _can’t_ because of the stupid, _wonderful_ gag.

Kuroo waits until there’s another strand of drool, more spit fallen to her chest before he decides to do more than touch, tease. He does dip his fingers into the saliva, pokes at it and swirls the tip of his digit around, draws it down her chest. It makes her blush because he’s _playing_ with it but it weirdly makes her feel a bit more needy, a bit more _eager_ to have him in her. It’s gross and strange and new to her and she wonders if it’s something she’s into.

Does she really have a kink so...gross?

Yachi doesn’t know what to do with the odd revelation and is relieved when he pulls his hand from the drool, glances a finger over her jawline and then grips his cock again. He nestles it between her folds and she shivers, looks at him with half-shut eyes and cheeks that feel as if they’re on fire. Kuroo smirks and grips her waist, squeezes it and then smooths his thumbs over her skin.

“So _tiny_ , kitten,” he says with a satisfied smile. “You’re such a pretty sight. Are you ready?”

Yachi nods with a certain frantic energy that would normally make her flush from embarrassment, tries to whine out a _please_ from behind the gag. Kuroo just hums and thumbs across her skin, licks his lips and then grins.

Yachi feels her pulse race, feels something wet drip onto her and begs the best she can with her eyes.

His lips twitch and then he slowly begins to push in.

Yachi immediately tries to sob.

It’s just that the way he rolls in isn’t just slow. It’s a crawling, glacial pace that makes her writhe, makes him grit his teeth. Even though she can catch the nearly pained expression on his face through a blurry gaze, he doesn’t speed up, doesn’t move any faster. It’s just inch by inch, achingly slow and teasing as he pets at her stomach with his thumbs, as she tries to swallow the spit in her mouth.

When he’s finally buried into her, she very nearly cries.

Yachi sniffles instead and looks up at him with wet lashes and pleading eyes, makes a frustrated noise when he doesn’t move and just stays _resting_ within her.

How does he have this self-control?

She squeezes around him in an effort to make him move and a low groan slips from him. He makes her wait even when she’s whining behind the gag, choking out little whimpers and trembling under his hands.

Sir, please. Daddy, please. Kuroo, please. _Pleasepleaseplease_.

If she had the ability to, she would be begging without restraint, without the embarrassment that usually keeps her from it.

Kuroo takes a deep, shaky breath and runs a hand down, works his thumb to rest against her clit and grinds the pad of it down against it. Yachi arches her back and tries to pant, looks at Kuroo with something like horror in her eyes.

He’s not going to move until she comes. She can see it on his face, feel it in the way his fingers flex against her waist and dig it into her skin.

The teasing _bastard_.

She _usually_ doesn’t feel so frustrated and upset, thrilled and delighted from some masochistic need. She rarely ever wants to both hit and cling to her partners, call them names and beg for them to make her feel good. This is so new and so frustratingly wonderful and awful and it’s so, so much even if it’s so, so little.

Yachi sobs the best she can and squeezes around him, tries to grind her hips back against his cock. He grunts at it and pinches her nipple in warning, thumbs her clit and stares down at her as if he wants to _devour_ her. He’s got her lipstick smeared on his face and a bead of sweat clinging to his hairline and he’s so, so handsome and so, so _horrible_.

He plays with her clit for the longest time, thumbs at it slowly and then taps against it, scrapes a nail across carefully and gives it a pinch. He toys with the sensitive little nub until Yachi is writhing- practically thrashing- underneath him, desperation in her veins and sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead, drool falling to her chest and tears dripping from her lashes.

As soon as she manages to come with a weak little whimper, Kuroo moves his hands to grip her waist again, hoists her to a new angle and then _slams_ into her. She doesn’t even get the chance to ride out the orgasm and ends up choking on her spit, crying out from behind the gag as he immediately just starts pounding against her g-spot, fucking into her roughly.

It’s too much.

Yachi sobs and squirms, pulls on the tie and whines and moans in fractured, broken little heaves. She can’t look at him and ends up squeezing her eyes shut, tries to regain some sense of control over the pleasure that rolls over her and twists in her veins. Each rock, each snap of his hips makes her tremble and she ends up being forced from one orgasm to the next.

And he just keeps _going_. Even after her body just kind of gives out and she’s reduced to a hazy, fucked out, pliant and doll like mess, he _keeps going_.

Kuroo fucks her and fucks her and fucks her. He moves her how he likes, pants and grins when she stares up at him with a glassy gaze, her head lolling to her shoulder. Her jaw begins to ache and it hurts but it’s buried underneath the pleasure that just keeps roaring through her without mercy.

Too much. It’s too much and he’s so handsome and it feels so good and she wants to make him come and she doesn’t want to come anymore and she wants to kiss him and touch him and collapse against the covers and it’s too much and _please_.

She barely registers that she tries to mumble it from behind the gag, that she’s been trying to beg since he’s raised her leg up into the air and pressed it against the shoulder.

Kuroo leans down and the stretch makes her want to whimper but then his lips brush against her forehead and he moans quietly.

“Baby, kitten, ‘m gonna come,” he mumbles against her skin. “Feels so fucking good. _You’re_ so fucking good. So pretty. So tight. God, fuck. _Kitten_.”

Yachi trembles and weakly tries to nuzzle against him, manages a whimper and a clench around his cock. He groans loudly and then finally, finally his hips are stuttering and his hands are gripping her too tight and he fucks into her _hard_ , drags one more orgasm from her as he rides out his own.

Yachi twitches as he grinds into her, tries to squirm away but only manages to stir ever so slightly. His lips find her forehead and her cheek and her jaw and Kuroo pants against her, grunts out some groans as he pecks kisses at her, noses against her sweaty skin. His hands run over her sides until they finally remember the gag and desperate impatience rips through her as he fumbles with it clumsily.

As soon as the ball pops from her mouth, a waterfall of spit follows and Yachi coughs, cries because her jaw aches _so much_. It comes out rough and raspy, weak and pathetic and Kuroo curses, cups her face and mumbles apologies to her.

“Shit, sorry. Does it hurt? Fuck. I should have- kitten, kitten, just try to work it out and I’m going to take care of you, okay?” he tells her, panic in his voice and dismay in his eyes.

He looks genuinely upset and frustrated with himself, anxious and worried. That pains her because _yes_ it hurts but he made her feel so, so _good_ and- even if she’s crying- it’s mostly because she’s overwhelmed and she doesn’t know how to handle herself or what to do.

Kuroo goes to apologize more and she shakes her head, tries to touch him but gets stopped by the tie. She whimpers and he reaches above her, tugs at it and mutters curses under his breath until her wrists are free. They fall to her sides and she winces as they tingle, forces herself to reach up to his face even if it makes more tears slide down her cheeks.

“Don’t- don’t apologize,” she croaks out, trembling and whimpering as her jaw creaks and aches. It hurts to talk and takes so much of her focus and energy, makes her nearly swoon from the effort. “Good. It was g-good.”

Kuroo eyes her and she drops her arms, pretty much crumples against the pillows. He slides out of her and she gasps at the sudden emptiness, brings her knees up to her chest and shakes.

Too much. She’s exhausted and her head is fuzzy and she feels vulnerable and it’s _too much_.

He brushes his fingers over her hair and she shivers, tries to press up into it but ends up just sort of moving her head in a weird little swaning motion. She’s still crying, still shaking and her jaw screams at her when she tries to open and close it. Kuroo wipes at her tears and then pulls her to him, holds her close and hunches over her a bit.

That makes it better, somehow. Being held and having him over makes her feel safe in a way she doesn’t know how to explain. She’s in such a weird state of vulnerability and lingering pleasure and she doesn’t know how to break from it so she just latches onto him the best she can, clings to the comfort that he provides.

“Kitten, you thirsty?” he asks after a moment, voice a little rough. She nods and Kuroo presses a kiss to the top of her head, holds her tighter. “Okay, give me just a movement.”

Yachi wants to whine a little, tug on him to get her something right then but something a little nervous runs through her and she doesn’t want go through more pain so she keeps her mouth shut, nods weakly against him.

Somewhere underneath this weird haze she’s in, she _thinks_ she’s embarrassed by how pathetic she’s being but it’s not that much more of a trace because honestly, truly, she has always had this quiet desire to be taken care of and she can’t be too bothered by it all.

It takes probably two or three minutes before he moves but then Kuroo fumbles her into his arms, stands up from the bed and carries her over to the kitchen area. Panic rises in her when they’re out of the cozy confines of her bed but she breathes in deep through her nose and out the same way, licks her lips and digs her nails into her palms when he sets her onto the counter.

“Do you want juice? Water?” he asks.

“Juice, please,” Yachi whispers, moving her jaw as little as possible. “Apple.”

Kuroo nods and gives her a kiss on the forehead, takes off his condom and throws it in the trash before pulling out the juice from the fridge. Yachi points him to the correct cupboard when he raises a brow to her and he opens it up, manages to pull down her favorite tumbler without asking.

She greedily gulps the juice down when he hands it over, almost chokes on it but manages to maintain _some_ sense of self-control. She can feel him watching her as she swallows it down and her lashes flutter a little from the attention. She feels much better after drinking the juice and sets the tumbler down with a quiet clatter, sniffles and wipes at her eyes.

“S-Sorry,” she whispers to him. “I don’t...I didn’t mean to get…”

Yachi trails off and shivers, presses into Kuroo’s touch when he steps over and cups her face.

“No, you don’t have to apologize,” he tells her. She thinks there’s something guilty in his expression and she blinks up at him, raises a hand to press one of his palms closer against his face. “I didn’t mean to get into it that much. I feel shitty. We should have talked about it more.”

Yachi shakes her head and closes her eyes, nuzzles against his palm.

“Don’t,” she mumbles. “It was good.”

He hums and then there’s a kiss to her forehead, his lips curling against it. Yachi keeps her eyes closed and he moves his hands to her waist, gives it a squeeze as he takes a deep breath.

“Okay, so...shower?” Kuroo asks. “Is that okay?”

Yachi nods and he almost immediately picks her up again. She rests her head against his shoulder, nuzzles a tiny bit against the crook of his neck. There’s just a tiny whiff left of his cologne and it makes her hum as she clings to him.

It’s...nice. She’s never been in this situation before. She aches a little, feels exhausted and still a little raw but...it’s nice. It’s nice being held and carried. It’s nice when he sets her down on the sink and it’s nice when he pulls her into the shower with him, when he washes her hair and runs his hands over her body, cleans the spit and sweat from it.

He teases her about the little rubber duck sitting in the corner of her tub, makes her giggle when he washes his hair and pulls it into a silly mohawk. He looks like a drowned rat when he washes the shampoo out but she probably looks just as terrible with her makeup running down her face. And he doesn’t seem to mind, keeps giving her wet kisses and lets her lean against him tiredly.

She’s happy but then her stomach drops when they turn the water off, when they step out of the shower because there’s the sudden thought that he’s going to go home and she’s going to be all by herself and she just- she doesn’t- she can’t be alone.

It’s irrational but an overwhelming panic crashes over her and she shakes as he dries off her hair, very nearly starts crying.

“Hey, uh, so, kitten,” Kuroo yawns out, moving the towel to dry her body off, “what do you want to do after this? Crash? Have a snack and watch something?”

She blinks and freezes for a second, takes a shaky breath as she tilts her head up to look at him with wide eyes.

“You...you want to stay?” Yachi asks, voice a little frail and betraying any sense of poise.

Kuroo huffs and raises his brow, cocks his head to the side as he leans his face down to hers.

“You don’t want me to?” he asks in return. She immediately shakes her head and he grins, presses a kiss to her forehead. “Good. So...I’m a cuddle bug. Just fyi. That cool?”

She gives a watery giggle and nods, smiles shakily when he touches her cheek.

Stay. He’s going to stay.

For some reason that feels so much more meaningful than any of the times one night lovers had stayed before.

Yachi takes a deep breath and lets him finish drying her off, waits as he does the same to himself before padding out into the main room. There’s the brief thought that she could wear something pretty for him but she rejects it because it feels like a lot of effort and she’s worn down to her bare self now, small and tired and without any adornment.

Yachi puts on an old, faded Karasuno VBC shirt that she stole from Yamaguchi long ago and a comfy pair of panties, mismatched knee high socks. When she walks back over to Kuroo, he just grins, laughs and says he likes her style.

“Your jaw better?” he asks, sitting on the edge of her bed. Yachi nods and straddles his lap, smiles when he does. “Good. Shit, sorry about that. Again. You shouldn’t have worn it that long.”

Yachi hums and runs her hands over his chest, finally starts touching and exploring those lovely, lovely muscles.

“So you wanna sleep or what?” Kuroo asks after a moment, grabbing her hands and squeezing them lightly. “I’m cool to stay up longer or curl up.”

Yachi thinks for a moment, tilts her head and yawns.

“What do you want to do?” she asks in a mumble.

He hesitates but squeezes her hands lightly, smiles sheepishly.

“Uh, I honestly want a smoke and a beer,” Kuroo tells her, bringing one hand up to scratch at his cheek. “And to maybe just zone out to some movie on the couch while we cuddle.”

Yachi blinks and nods, smiles a little drowsily at him.

“I have beer. It might not be the best but I do have it,” she informs him. “And that all sounds _wonderful_.”

Kuroo grins and Yachi feels warmth fill her belly.

* * *

Yachi shows Kuroo to her little balcony area, sits side straddle on his lap as he lights up. They share a cigarette and he sips a beer, lets her sigh happily against him and cling to him when stray nerves run through her.

They mumble random things to each other, fall into the nice head space where they can share memories and random dreams, wistful thoughts and silly stories without any worry of it meaning anything. Yachi always enjoys this slice of time after being intimate with someone, the nebulous, tenuous bond that connects people after a good lay. It feels like a deeper link than they ever actually share and it’s nice to pretend, for just that short while, that there’s someone she could melt into, bury herself into and call home.

It’s never like that but it’s nice to imagine, it’s nice to pretend.

After a cigarette and mumbles, smoky kisses and soft touches, they make their way back inside and he cuddles with her on the couch while they let an old movie play. She likes being tucked into his arms, she finds. He’s big and warm and he holds her just a bit too tight but she likes it, likes how he curls himself around her.

She could get used to it, she thinks. It’s a dangerous thought and one she shouldn’t let herself focus on but still...still she falls asleep wondering if they’ll stumble into each other again.

* * *

Yachi wakes up to the smell of bacon.

She flutters her eyes open and looks around in confusion, disorientated by the sound of someone bustling just outside the curtains of her bed. She blinks and looks down at her lap, runs her hand through her hair and winces because her arms are so very sore. She tries to puzzle out _why_ but then there’s a loud, braying laugh and it all comes rushing back to her.

Yachi flushes as she presses her hand to her mouth, tries not to squeak and let him know she’s awake.

Oh...oh goodness. Last night was a lot.

She can’t believe she got _Tetsurou Kuroo_ in her bed, can’t believe they fucked and cuddled and laughed.

Oh, Yamaguchi is going to flip when she tells him.

Yachi takes a deep breath and a few moments to gather herself, peeks carefully outside of the curtains and watches Kuroo at the stove top, watches as he brandishes a spatula with one hand and holds a phone to his ear with the other.

Who is he talking to?

She hesitates and then crawls out of the bed, smooths her shirt over her and resists the urge to change into something else. That would be stupid and he would know.

Yachi quietly walks toward the kitchen and listens to him talk, lips twitching into a smile as she does.

“Ah, yeah, I’ll just go in late. It’s no big deal, ya know?...Yeah, yeah...Actually, not too far from you...Dude, these lips don’t kiss and tell...She’s a _doll_...Yeah...Yeah I hope so…”

Yachi bites her lip and smiles, takes another breath and then walks over to him, smiles again when he looks over at her and grins.

“Bo, Bo- No, shhh, bro...Bro, kitten is up...Dude, _shut up_ …” Kuroo actually _sort of_ blushes at whatever is said on the other end of the line and Yachi giggles, hides it behind her hand. “...yeah, yeah...I wanna- yeah, okay, catch you later...dude don’t make-...okay, _fine_ , yeah...love you too.”

Yachi’s brow raises at that last mumbled bit and Kuroo blushes a bit more, grins happily, though, as he pulls his phone away from his ear and finishes the call.

“Um...that was Bokuto,” he explains almost a little sheepishly, setting the phone down and rubbing the back of his neck. “I was supposed to go to his place last night so he was checking in.”

“Oh, well, I’m _so_ sorry for interrupting your plans,” Yachi teases softly, filled with the breezy confidence a successful hookup lends.

He snorts and turns, reaches over and turns the stove top off and moves the skillet to the side. Kuroo turns to her again and grips her waist, steps to her and dips down to give her a kiss. She goes to her tiptoes to meet him and he smiles against her lips, rubs her sides.

“You _terrible_ little distraction,” Kuroo teases back, nipping at her bottom lip before pulling away. “I made breakfast for you. You want it?”

Yachi nods, traces her gaze not so subtly over him. He looks rakish and perfect in the morning light, his hair an absolute disaster and his skin turned dusty gold with the sun filtering in from the windows. He looks like he stumbled out from the pages of some magazine and into her studio apartment and there’s some sort of smug sense of satisfaction that flits through her as she eyes him.

She had sex with Kuroo.

A very good way to break her dry spell.

A shame there won’t be a repeat.

“So, I gotta head out in, like, an hour or so,” Kuroo tells her, pulling a plate down from her cupboard. “I’ve got work today and need to swing by my place beforehand.”

Yachi hums and leans against the counter, feels a bit of guilt run through her for instigating their somewhat intense night but forgets it when he steps over, presses a kiss to her forehead.

He’s so affectionate. That’s surprising. That’s nice.

“But, I was thinking that maybe we could exchange numbers,” Kuroo says casually. Yachi tilts her head and blinks up at him, watches as he rubs the back of his neck. “I...okay, honestly? I’m kind of shitty at the whole ‘it’s one time and that’s _it’_ thing. I...had fun last night. And now that I know you’re in the city with me...just, why not, you know?”

He rubs the back of his neck again and grins down at her sheepishly, tan cheeks tinted the lightest pink and something a little hopeful in his eyes.

Yachi remembers the stunning realization she made last night, the realization that Kuroo- despite his looks- is a big, cheesy dork. A dork that cuddles _so_ very well and took care of her the night before, made her laugh and let her try something new without it scarring her for life.

Yachi lets her lips curl up and gives a nod, steps closer to him and goes to her tiptoes, loops her arms around his neck and pulls him down for a kiss.

“Yeah...let’s do that.”

**Author's Note:**

> This got way too long and I'm v tired but heck it's out of the system.  
> Let's pretend that they start hooking up and having fun and it's cute and nice and maybe there's a BokuKuroYachi threesome at some point.  
> Because why not, you know?
> 
> I think I tagged everything but if I didn't give me a poke.
> 
> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~


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